The Fields of Elysium
by djmichealsfics
Summary: Sometimes you don't realize that someone's been a hero until the end.


Beta: Thank you to the amazing murgy31 for the fantastic beta.

Disclaimer: I don't own them, never did, never will. This story is purely for entertainment purposes.

A/N: I know nothing about the publishing process and am taking license with the amount of time required to publish an actual book.

A/N2: Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, and signed up for author alerts. I really appreciate your support. ~L

Title: **The Fields of Elysium**

_Elysium, or Elysian Fields, is the afterlife, the resting place of the righteous and heroic. Where good men go after death to continue in their fruitful labors, a life of ease, with no trouble, for eternity. _

May 2007

**McGregor looked around. Something wasn't right but he couldn't put his finger on it. It seemed like …**

McGee blew out a frustrated breath and started again. Or tried to. No matter what he did, nothing would come. Twenty minutes. An hour. Then two. The thoughts kept running in an endless loop in his head as he stared blindly at the paper in front of him. It was on him. He knew it, was convinced of it. Three people - Three.

Petty Officer Darren Cove, playing the role of Cameron Meyer. Dead.  
Adrian Corbette, playing the role of Jerrod Brenner. Dead.  
Abby Scuito, playing the role of Amy Sutton. Alive but irrevocably affected.  
And Timothy McGee, NCIS Special Agent. In the role of Wannabe Famous Author.

They were real people.

Real people whose lives were forever changed. Their families' lives were changed. Forever.

Cove was dead.  
Corbette was dead.

Two innocent people were killed. For no reason. No other reason than Landon was under the illusion that those people were a danger to him. Because he, Timothy McGee, based his characters off of people. Real. Live. People. People he met during his day. And described them in vivid detail. From the truck they drove, to their order at the coffee shop, to their physical description. Right down to the birthmarks on their faces.

Landon killed those men because he was deluded into thinking that he was protecting McGregor. McGregor. A character in a book. No. Not just any book. His book. His book, situations that he made up, from his imagination, using real people. He was responsible, ultimately, for their deaths. Even if Landon was, as Tony so eloquently put it, totally bat shit crazy.

And Abby. Landon was going to kill her, well, kill Amy Sutton for her perceived betrayal of McGregor. Right away they had "the talk". He knew it wouldn't go well, but never thought that it would turn out this way. Why? Well, Abby had decided to permanently relegate him to the no fly list.

They never be anything more than friends. Maybe, maybe they would have before the Landon situation. Maybe. But he would never know now. And who could blame her. He had almost gotten her killed.

Tim pulled the paper out, put the cover over the typewriter, shut the light off as he walked out of the den, and firmly closed the door.

******

~~First week of August, 2010~~

It was a Wednesday, it was raining and they were already late getting back from witness interviews - two hours, thirty-eight minutes and four phone calls from Gibbs telling them to get their asses moving or they wouldn't have a job to come back to- when Tony swung the car into a parking lot. Tim was so lost in his thoughts that Tony had hopped out of the car before Tim could even register what he was doing - or voice a complaint.

Through the darkness and rain, he saw Tony run in through a door but he couldn't make out the name on the big plate glass window and he didn't even really have a clue where they were. Tony disappeared from view, presumably to the interior, for a few minutes before coming back to the front. By his posture, Tim could tell that Tony was being charming and flirting with the person in front of the window - probably some co-ed Tim thought snarkily. Although with the rain pouring down he couldn't really tell one way or another. . They spoke for a few minutes before the person shook his or her head. The rain had intensified though so mid-conversation, all Tim could really see was two blurry blobs.

Tony made the dash back to the car, only dripping slightly on him, and without saying a word about the stop, whipped the car into a u-turn. They were back on the Yard within a half hour. After explaining that there was no new information forthcoming from the witnesses, and giving the excuse of the storm for their tardy return, Tony took the predicted headslap with no complaint or comment. For the next several days Tony is quiet.

Tim made note of Tony's aberrant behavior but before he can make comment to his friend, there's a break in the case and they are off and running and Tony's unusual behavior was forgotten.

~~Last weekend in September~~

They are supposed to be at Abby's. She ordered, invited the team to a picnic. With the end of September being unseasonably warm and the team going seemingly non-stop since the end of June, she wanted to celebrate the break in recent crime wave. And they were going to enjoy themselves whether they liked it or not.

Tim had said he would pick up Tony after the other man's car was the victim of right place, wrong time. The car was at the dealership for routine maintenance when a fire broke out in the office. While it was put out quickly, all of the vehicles suffered some smoke damage leaving Tony without a car for at several weeks at best, or until the two insurance companies could come to an agreement in regards to a rental car.

In truth, Tim wanted to talk to Tony. The break in the action had reminded him of Tony's unusual behavior almost two months ago. Something that had not changed but with the constant running between case to case, was overlooked until now. Tim was internally debating how to bring the subject up when Tony startled him.

"Take a left in here and stop for a minute , will ya Tim?"

He hadn't even put it in park before Tony was hopping out of the car. He lightly jogged to a door and walked in, straight past the window. In the light of a picture perfect morning, Tim could easily read the name on the plaque hanging over the door, Under Covers. Great. Just perfect. He wanted to talk to Tony seriously about something, and Tony had him drive him to a sex shop. Tim blew out a frustrated breath.

He could clearly see Tony go to the counter and flirt with the guy at the counter. Wait. Guy. Tony was flirting with a guy. Tony. Was flirting. with a GUY. And the guy was flirting back. There was no mistake in the way he leaned in towards Tony. They conversed for a few minutes before Tony came out with a slight frown on his face. He got in the car, fastened his seat belt, and sat there for a few minutes before looking at Tim. He stared back at Tony blankly. Tony raised his eyebrow, "Well?"

Tim was so flustered about seeing Tony flirt with a guy that he didn't comprehend what Tony was asking. "Well, what?"

Tony snorted, "Well… are you going to start the car and drive or are we just going to sit in the parking lot all day, McLollygagging? Because I have to tell you, when she finds out that you were just stalling by sitting in a parking lot for hours, and she will find out because I'll tell her, Abby won't be happy with you. Again."

All thoughts of Tony and his flirting were erased from his mind as he looked at his friend, and sputtered in outrage. "It was your fault we stopped here! I'm not stalling. I'M NOT!"

With Tony needling him the entire way about pissing Abby off for a fourth time in as many days, Tim was soon glad to be out of the vehicle and away from him. Before he could make an excuse, Abby had pressed him into some job and his earlier musings about Tony and the store clerk and flirting were lost in the face of Abby's forgiveness and a relaxing, stress free afternoon with friends.

*************

~~Thanksgiving~~

Tim was on a mission. A secret on at that. Quietly, unobtrusively - or trying to remain as unnoticed as possible - tailing his subject. However he was under no assumptions that the target would catch him. He was, after all, a pro and paranoid as hell. Not without good reason.

Tim *was* following him. But it was his own damned fault. Tony was acting mysterious still. Like the other times before. But Tim realized this had been going on for a long time. Tony was good, real good, but he did have tells. Tells that Tim knew all too well.

Tim tried to voice his concerns, however, quietly, to let him know that, if he would just *let* him, Tim would have his back. But Tony, with a sleight of hand or turn of a phrase, always turned it back on him. Made him angry. Turned the attention to someone or something else. And before he knew it, Tim forgot what he was originally going to say and it got swept back under the rug. EVERY. TIME. Deceit, murder, and treachery were tools of their trade and all too often the other man was made a pawn in someone else's game. This time, WAS going to be different. Tim swore it to himself.

Vance had given them a three day weekend so Tim launched his plan. Tim used his best undercover skills, skills that Tony had drilled in to him - often accompanied by sneering, insults, and unadulterated gloating and mockery of his general ineptness. He quietly and unobtrusively followed Tony throughout his errands Friday.

It was an eyeopener to say the least. He expected a sporting event with friends somewhere, maybe the video store and take out or a date with some nameless beauty. Instead it was vastly different. Tony went to a bakery, to a sporting goods store, to a gun range where he stayed for two and half hours, a dry cleaner on the south end of town – a full 45 minutes from his house, and ended his day with a visit to a mom and pop store.

On Saturday, Tony started the day at a Farmer's Market outside the city, followed by a visit to a whole foods store and, finally, fresh meat market all in the same area. Really the idea of Tony shopping at a store geared to organic, fresh foods threw him a little. A lot actually, if he were honest. It wasn't until he lost Tony later in the day as he wandered in and out among the vendors at a street fair that Tim had an epiphany.

The book store.

Instead of chasing Tony all around town, although he learned more about his friend in an afternoon than he had in almost ten years, it came to Tim that he could wait for Tony in the bookstore. Tim stopped at home briefly to grab his laptop, to create support for his ruse in case he got caught.

Tim stepped through the door, nodded at the same clerk Tony had flirted with, and stopped for a moment. Whatever he thought the store was going to be like, it wasn't. For one thing, it was much bigger on the inside than it looked.

Tim expected…something else. Instead of one space, it took the entire floor of the building and there were stairs leading up to the second level. It was like stepping back in time. The floors were hardwood and the air was rich with the pleasant scent of coffee melding with old wood and paper, books by the thousands. It reminded him of the countless libraries he frequented as a child. The floors creaked with age as he was pulled deeper into the store. Tim wandered up and down the aisles, taking delight in the mixture of old mixed in with new, comfy chair placed strategically about.

He followed his nose towards the scent of coffee and presently came to an area equipped with café tables and chairs. There was a commercial coffee pot, hot water, an assortment of teas, and cookies and muffins. Instead of a worker, there was a jar for donations.

After getting some coffee and leaving some money, Tim passed through children's area with bright colors, bean bag chairs, and a fish tank. A group of children were being read to by an older gentleman.

Tim went through room by room, trailing his fingers reverently along the spines. An open archway and caught his eye. As he stepped through, his breath was taken away; Sherlock Holmes, Phillip Marlow, Miss Marple, and Hercule Poirot, shared shelf space with Inspector Linley, Kinsey Millhone, Stephanie Plum, and, to his surprise and delight, McGregor.

The second floor was filled with more rooms like the first, including a large computer lab where several young people were working. What he noted strangely was the fact that they weren't playing video games, they were doing what appeared to be school work.

Above it all, for the amount of people that he had seen in the short time he had been there, the store was quiet. Most public libraries, for all of their reputation of having librarians shushing people, were filled with noise - people talking, keyboards clacking, computers dinging, the sound of people moving about. Bookstores were much, much worse, kids talking, toddlers screaming, angry parents. But not here. Here there was a murmur, but it was low, gentle.

Tim found a comfortable chair, slouched down, and with his ear buds firmly in place, he opened his word processor program and started typing. The next thing he was aware of, the screen went dead and several hours had passed. He emerged from his refuge to find the clerk smiling at him knowingly.

He blushed and confessed a little sheepishly, "Sorry. I didn't mean to stay but I just got caught up. I'd probably still be there if the battery hadn't died."

The young woman just smiled. "That's okay. We're open daily 9:00 to 10:00. And the next time, you can bring your charger. Each seating area has power outlets and we offer free Wi-Fi."

He thanked her and dropped a $10 in the tip jar on the counter before heading out into the night. Even though he knew that he had missed any opportunity to watch for Tony, Tim didn't mind. He felt refreshed even though his muscles were protesting from being in the same position for so long.

Sunday morning Tim was at the bookstore early. He had scolded himself for missing Tony and wasn't about to miss him today. He had just gotten a cup of coffee when the bell rang over the door and Tony walked in. Tim watched as he approached the manager, who smiled and shook his head, Tony smiled and walked back through the aisles.

He was looking around furtively for the older man when a voice growled low in his ear, "What are you doing McGee?"

Tim jumped and let out an undignified squeak, "Jesus Tony! Don't DO that."

The older man simply stared at him. "Didn't get enough yesterday? Is your life really that boring that you had to follow me for two days while I ran errands?" Tony snorted, "Of course it is. Why am I even bothering?"

Tim was going to snap back, actually opens up his mouth to snark in the lofty smugness he often adopted when Tony unnerved him, when he stoped. The entire reason he was following Tony was to find out if he could help the other man. With whatever was bothering him, the reason he had for being elusive and evasive and whatever it was that was making him be un-Tony.

With Tony appraising him in that flat stare, Tim stood up straight and squared his shoulders. He had made a promise to himself, it *WAS* going to be different this time, Tim grabbed the sleeve of Tony's shirt and pulled him back further in to the store, back to the furthest room he found - the mystery book room. Tim gently led Tony to an easy chair and gave him a gentle shove, took a deep breath, and gave a sharp nod as he blew it out.

"I know something is going on with you." He raised a hand, "Don't talk. Just listen. I know. You've been *distant*, distracted, elusive, evasive, and all around different. You rarely call me any of those stupid names and you have been rolling something around in your mind for months now. And somehow, somehow, I'm the only one that's noticed it. Or maybe the others have noticed and are chalking up to life, or maybe they just don't give a damn, but I do. "

His breath was coming in fast pants and sounded unreasonably loud and harsh in the quiet room, and his face a picture in earnestness. "Tony if, if, - if there is *something* that you are doing, that you have orders to do but can't tell anyone, I want to make sure that you know, that I am here for you. I will be here for you to back you up however you need, whenever you need. All you have to do is say the word. You should'nt be put in the position of having little or no backup and too many times you've been used by a Director or the Sec Nav as a pawn. Trust me."

Tony cocked his head to the side, considering the weight of his words, before giving him a smile. "McGee. Tim. I'm not working on anything. No undercover ops. But I really, really appreciate it. Knowing that you're in my corner. I – it means more to me than you know."

There was a quiet moment where they stared at each other, taking in the measure of the man before him.

Tim was not entirely sure he believed Tony, he was just too damned good at being undercover. "Can I have two questions, and you answer them truthfully?"

Tony nodded a little uncertainly, before Tim continued with his first question. "Then what's with this book store? You come in here all of the time. The staff knows you. "

Tony scuffed his foot on the floor, his eyes darting about. "I work here, volunteer here. Really. With the kids reading program and the rehab program upstairs."

Tim blurted out his second question without giving himself time to think lest he loose his courage. Besides, how many times would he ever get the chance to get a straight answer out of Tony for something that he really, really wants?

"Why do you keep asking out the cashier when he shoots you down?"

Tony looked at him like he's lost his mind, "I'm not asking Jake for a date McGee, been there done that. We're ancient history and just friends now."

The very idea that Tony dated a guy boggled Tim and it took him a few tries before he sputtered out, "Well. If you aren't asking him out, what the hell are you doing? Just how many men *have* you dated?"

Tony grinned at the poleaxed look on his Probie's face. " More than two less than a hundred, the exact number is really none of your damned business."

Tony waggled his eyebrows, "Unless you're curious?"

He let loose a peal of genuine laughter in the face of Tim's sputtering. "If you must know McNosy, I'm checking to see if there is any news about an author I like. I'm hoping he publishes a new book, but there's a rumor he died. He didn't. He's just... in hiatus. "

After a while, Tim asked him "*Why*?"

Tony smiled a half smile, "I know that he doesn't write anymore but I like his books. They are interesting and, sometimes, make me laugh."

Tim cocked his head to the side. He knew why he didn't write anymore, hadn't told anyone, but wondered about Tony's author. "Why doesn't he write anymore?"

Tony stared at him, long enough to make Tim uncomfortable, before finally answering. "Something happened, it doesn't matter what, just, it wasn't his fault, but he blamed himself so stopped writing."

Tim's brows furrowed, "But. WHY? Why do you keep asking? If you know what happened and why he quit?"

Tony carelessly shrugged his shoulder "I like him. His books aren't completely plausible but they ring true, ya know? I keep hoping, hope springs eternal and all that crap.

"What about you McWriter? Don't you know if there are any of those whatever they're called, Gemcitians? If there are any of them out there just hanging on your every word, waiting for your next installment of the adventures of LJ Tibbs? Because your words, your stories, make their day seem brighter, their lot in life seem not so bad. Do you even care?"

With those words, Tony left Tim standing there.

That night Tim spent pondering what Tony had said. He knew the other man had depth, he had seen it before, and curiously wondered exactly how much he thought he knew about the real Tony DiNozzo was full of shit, versus what he had discovered in the past few days.

If Tony, the eternal goofball, class clown, the x-rated Peter Pan, if he had a favorite author, that he from all intents and purposes actively followed, what about the people he, Tim, didn't know? It was a question that kept him up late into the night, gnawing at his brain.

Somehow, after work the next night and the night after that and the night after that, Tim found himself drawn back in the bookstore. In his place, in the same comfortable chair, slouched down again with his ear buds firmly in place, laptop plugged into the outlet. It really wasn't a conscious decision. He sat down and the words flowed out of him on to the screen. One evening turned into two. One weekend rolled into the next. One month flew past, then another.

Months filled with solid writing interspersed with work. Writing in his down time at work when his reports were completed, in the car on the way to crime scenes, on flights to nowhere USA. His story was stored in the cloud so that he could access it anytime, anywhere. He kept extra chargers for his laptop in the truck, in his bag, and much to his amusement, there was even one in Tony's bag, handed over wordlessly one day on the way to a crime scene when he realized that he had forgotten the one on his desk.

**  
July 2011

It was summer by the time he finished his manuscript. He typed the last word, saved, and attached it in an email to his publisher. It was different from the other two, but in his heart he liked it better, felt better about this one than either of the others.

He had gotten to be on a first name basis with the employees so stopped to speak with Jake before leaving. Tim walked out the door shaking his head, with a thoughtful expression and a small smile on his face.

**  
November 2011

..."Gemcity's newest book in the series, The Quiet Hero, is stunning, it tears at your emotions."  
..."The book delves deeper into Agent Tommy's life, beyond the single dimension we've seen in the previous two books."  
.."Agent Tommy's quest to find his missing friend will make you laugh and cry, sometimes at the same time."  
...'McGregor stumbles on Agent Tommy's secret, an off-duty search for a missing person, and along the way, learns more about the man he thought he knew."

This book is dedicated to my most loyal fan and my personal hero. Without your support and machinations, this story would never have been written.  
Thom E. Gemcity


End file.
